Late One Night
by RelaxedReady
Summary: April receives a curious phone call * EDIT: Ch. 2 revised, 4.3.16 * 2k14 U * Ninja turtles fanfic * Michelangelo/Mikey, April O'Neil * Romance
1. Chapter 1

Late One Night.

... ... ...

April looks at her laptop while sitting on her couch. The black framed glasses she wears are slipping down her nose. They nearly fly off her face as she jerks her head towards her phone, now ringing. Smiling, she relaxes back into the couch and decides to answer her favorite caller in a throaty, playful voice. "…Michael?"

April takes her glasses off.

Harsh panting sounds coarse out of her receiver, she pulls the phone away from her ear, cringing. She places her laptop on her coffee table and says in a hurry, "Mikey? Can you hear me..?"

She receives no answer and cannot yet decide if she should roll her eyes or frown with worry. April only hears the sounds of Michelangelo running fast as hell. The grunts of exertion, then silence, followed by more crunching footfalls on gravel. She opens her mouth to yell into the phone then stops herself and stands. Her eyes dart back and forth, listening, as she continues to decipher Michelangelo's breathing.

Then it is eerily quiet, she is compelled to look at the phone to confirm the call remains active. She furiously scratches her scalp for a moment and returns the phone to her ear, whispering hesitantly, "Hello..?"

Light staccato taps on glass cause April to jump, half curse and drop her device. She rushes over to her window and yanks open the curtain. With it pitch black outside she is met with her reflection. She huffs and meets her own gaze, swirling between dread and hope. April presses her forehead against the glass, cupping her eyes, connecting to the baby blues belonging to the turtle of the hour.

Michelangelo lay at ease on her fire escape, completely on his side, one arm crooked to hold his head up jauntily. He nods one time at her and she can hear a muffled, "Sup, girl."

Her short burst of laughter fogs up the pane slightly and she kisses the glass leaving an imprint. Michelangelo's deep bravado filters through the glass as April prepares to open the window.

It was just another booty-call.


	2. Chapter 2 Revised

4.2.16: I think revised may be the better term…

Any reviews are helpful and will be reciprocated. Thank you for reading :))

…..

April fights the window open and tosses **Michelangelo** some 'tude, saying, "Thanks for calling first."

Not an unusual greeting.

He pats himself down making sure to go extra slowly. What could his phone have said to April?

 _You can handle this._

He's not so sure after she tells him the forecast. "It's. Freezing."

Mikey makes a low noise after finding his device connected to April-Cakes.

"April?" Taking the call. "I totally butt dialed you!" He hangs up and eases his bulk through the window. Booty first, for emphasis.

Shutting out the cold he sharpens the glint in his eye, inquiring, "Will you ever forgive me?"

… … …

 **April** thinks about giving him a hard time, huffing a little. Then his baby blues work her over.

She spirals a strand of hair around a finger, voice lilting. "I guess." Admiring how ridiculously big he looks in the apartment. "It was just…"

His smug expression fades as her hands trace up the crisscross, leather belts wrapped around his chest. Hesitating where the straps converge, she says. "I'm glad you're okay."

"Aren't you glad…" Mikey's hero voice makes an appearance. "I'm _here_ , too?" She can almost see his head swell.

Mask tail already in hand, she draws his face closer. Pausing before they kiss, she teases, "Maybe."

His lips follow her direction, lingering and un-rushed in their movements. She doesn't want to stop tonight. Their embrace deepens and grows more fervent.

In between their acts of reverence. "Sorry…" he pants. "Just showed up." Trailing her jawline he confesses, "I had to see you." Claiming her kiss again.

Listening to her heart. "Mikey, I - "

She exclaims as he tests the elasticity of her waistband.

"I like your yoga pants, Babe." He chin tucks her shoulder.

Then he skirts his thumbs around her waist, effectively rolling the fabric down on itself.

April can't hold back a throaty laugh. Then inspired by his boldness she guides Mikey's hands to cup her behind.

Murmuring encouragement, when her fuzzy slippers leave the ground.

… … …

 **Michelangelo** had raised her booty up.

He says a prayer while she tartly releases his lower lip. April laughs at his expression and he blinks at her, enraptured.

He totally meant to perch his Angel on the back of a couch and swaggers his stance between her thighs. Mischievous, green eyes beckon him and he purrs into her ear, "You are hot as hell, you know that?"

Demurely lowering her gaze, she says, "I like your sweatshirt." Stroking his ego.

Breathing becomes optional. She works her fingers into the knot of the sweatshirt tied around his waist. Tugging and pulling him undone, for her viewing pleasure.

… … …

A giddy **April** appreciates the design of his lace-up zipper, much like what she had seen on a pair of football pants.

Waiting for his reaction, only the sounds of New York City filter into her apartment. Curious, she meets his unwavering gaze.

He says, "I can tell how much you like it."

Michelangelo's sweatshirt drops to the floor.

She would have giggled at the gravel in his voice but he had started to massage her thighs. Talking to her throat. "Does that feel good?" Kneading her muscles in slow, deep circles.

April loves it. She clutches him to keep from falling back over the couch. "Mikey." Shaken by his ardor, she lets out, "I want you."

His rich baritone answers, "I want you, too."

She grinds into him, furiously hooking her arms around his neck.

… … …

 **Michelangelo** hears her booty calling.

So, he smooths out her curves and squeezes with way too much passion. April's gasping cry put this one fantasy he had to shame.

He feels intoxicated and she looks like she has just finished her favorite box of wine. Then cooing playfully into his ear, she reminds him, "Gentle."

It completely stuns him, the "churr" tickling the back of his throat. He banishes the beast with a sharp exclamation, accidentally ripping open the bottom half of her concert t-shirt.

April squeals and smacks his shell two times, in tandem with yelling his name. Laughing, she says, "You're an animal!"

He can't talk yet.

Mostly because both her hands tease his waistband.

And, she is humming to herself. That made the cosmos spin a bit slower. A gorgeous Babe wondering aloud, probably ruminating on what she believes to be: a totally cool, non-life threatening, un-gross, unfurling…

 _Oh, God._

She unties the bow atop his crudely designed fly.

This will turn into a mess. A huge, virgin, mutant, turtle mess.

Clenching his jaw, voice hoarse, he manages, "April."

Michelangelo had savoir-faire but he had never figured out how to warn her about his junk.

 _Maybe you should have called first?_

He grimaces. Judging April, she would probably not scream in terror, however, the girl might pass out.

"Relax." She says impishly, drawing her finger back still hooked into the first loop. The cord whips through its hole with a sharp, slick noise. "I'm ready."

There is no way she is ready. How can he keep the dreamy look in her eyes and skip the soul-crushing reaction.

He says, "Babe." Their gazes lock. "I don't know if you can handle what's in my tighty whities."

"Well, Michael." She _knows_ what that does to him. "I'll be gentle."

He groans as April toys with another loop of his fly. Then she almost disarms him, asking, "Do you think you can handle my granny panties?"

Michelangelo has faith.

"Yes." Very matter-of-fact. "With all my heart, April."

Comforted by her warm laughter and hoping he is not being too subtle, he asks, "What should I do first?"

His girl cuddles up to him, saying, "Take me to the bedroom."

…

…

A/N: Thanks again, I think this is a better place to leave Mikey, if I do not return to this fic again.

Thank you to DarkUnderworld for Beta and support.


End file.
